


Hi, Hello, Ardor

by ChaseTheFreakinStars



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 08:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13783365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaseTheFreakinStars/pseuds/ChaseTheFreakinStars
Summary: ♡♡♡





	Hi, Hello, Ardor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tumblr requester](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tumblr+requester).



> ///coughs/ So uh this is a long time coming. This fic has been sitting half-finished in my unfinished folder for...a year? Ouch. Huge apology to the anon who originally requested this. 
> 
> I don't ship these two personally but I'll admit that my dumb multiship heart thinks they're cute so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> EDIT: Uhh I forgot that I put together a playlist to get me in the mood to write this so here's a link https://playmoss.com/en/chaseastar/playlist/hi-hello-ardor-a

###### _

Who would have thought humans could be this engaging? 

Sure, the Nunez girl’s intelligence and interest in Troll culture had been a welcome surprise, but Barbara Lake is…something else.

The shift feels like it happened overnight, going from being interested in learning about Master Jim to being interested in learning about _Barbara_. Blinkous is still horribly awkward and more than a little clueless about his human form, but Barbara’s willingness to openly discuss the workings of the human body has smoothed out the rougher bumps.

She still couldn’t quite believe how he’d gotten the misconception that eight minutes of sleep was all that was required to function.

Blinky thinks she must think him a bit daft for things like that. At least it had gotten him some human medical texts, which would be helpful should anything ever happen to the kids.

But at the moment, Blinky’s not thinking about any of those things; instead, he’s focused entirely on Barbara, enraptured and disgusted by a story about a man’s fourth broken bone in as many days. Barbara laughs over something in the story Blinky doesn’t quite understand, but the general absurdity has him chuckling along regardless.

Their laughter dies off naturally and Barbara takes a moment to stare wistfully at the wall clock, a line of worry creasing her forehead. Jim isn’t home, and it’s once again getting very late by human standards. Not for the first time, Blinky feels a stab of guilt that he knows where Barbara’s child is when she, herself, is not allowed to.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Barbara. He’s a smart boy.” Blinky soothes, cautiously placing a hand on her knee. They’re sitting side by side on the couch, cups of tea warming their hands. 

Barbara turns back to Blinky with a tired, genuine, smile and places her hand over his, fitting their fingers together loosely. “I know, you’re right. Besides, he has his friends with him, doesn’t he? And one of your friends.” Barbara sighs, setting down her tea to run a hand through her hair. “It’s just hard to _not_ worry.”

Blinky swallows around the lump of guilt in his throat and quietly tamps down the bright bloom of amorous fluster in his chest. “It is, isn’t it? I have the upmost confidence in your son, yet even I still find myself fearing for his safety. Even if all the lot of them are doing is volunteer work.” He can feel a blush creep up the back of his neck as Barbara lets out a small, surprised laugh at that. In response, he returns his attention to his tea, doing his best not to spill it as Barbara gives his hand a short squeeze. As he lowers his cup, Barbara lifts her hand from his and Blinky, misinterpreting the move, swiftly withdraws his own from her knee.

She catches his hand in her own before it can retreat fully to the safety of his lap. Blinky nearly does drop his cup, this time; his eyes wide as he refocuses on Barbara. She looks a tad guilty, obviously having notice his fumble, and gives him a warm smile as a form of apology. She lets their hands drop together and moves the tiniest bit closer. Blinky, meanwhile, loses his battle with becoming flustered. He resists the urge to shrink under Barbara’s gaze as his face flushes. Afraid of dropping the china in his hand, but unwilling to ruin the moment, Blinky sets his cup down on the coffee table without looking. Luckily, he does not miss.

The air seems heavier than it had a moment ago, and Blinky finds himself almost lightheaded. He moves closer, just as she had, though much more cautiously. This is uncharted territory, and he finds himself floundering. Humans were so _different_ from Trolls, and their displays of affection were no exception. 

Unwilling to let this moment pass, but concerned he might be misinterpreting, Blinky raises their clasped hands to place a cautious kiss to Barbara’s knuckles. He draws back quickly, ready to apologize if need be, but it’s unnecessary. Almost the moment he looks up, Barbara is drawing him forward.

The kiss is soft, and surprising, and alien; but not unwelcome or horrible as Draal had made it seem. The press of Barbara’s lips against his perfectly chaste; which is good, since Blinky is doubtful he could perform adequately with anything more intense. As it is, he does find the confidence to kiss her back. Her free hand comes up to cup the side of his face as she turns her head slightly, seeking a better angle. Unsure of what to do with his own hand, Blinky allows it to rest on Barbara’s leg again. 

It’s at this moment that the front door decides to rattle open, Jim stepping inside in a bluster of apologies and assurances. Both Blinky and Barbara jump away from each other as if burned at the intrusion. Barbara’s face is as red as Blinky’s now, her glasses slightly askew on her nose as she watches her son.

“- So yeah, it all ended up a _huge_ mess and it took _forever_ to clean up. Sorry I was so…late. Mom.” Jim’s voice quiets as he finally looks over to the couch where Barbara and Blinky are seated. He looks back and forth between them for a moment, taking in their flushed and slightly disheveled appearances.

“Oh, hi Mr. Blinky. I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.” Jim’s tone isn’t accusing, or disapproving. In fact, he seems downright _pleased_. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed. Tomorrow’s a school day. Love you mom; nice to see you Mr. Blinky.” Jim disappears upstairs without waiting for a reply, leaving the adults in the living room somewhat bemused. 

After a moment, Blinky coughs delicately into a fist, breaking the silence. “I should…probably go. It is rather late, and the youth of Arcadia High will not counsel themselves tomorrow.” 

Barbara snorts at his phrasing and adjusts her glasses. “Of course; let me walk you out.”

They both stand together, leaving their cups of cooled tea on the coffee table. The walk to the door, through it, and onto the porch is a painfully short one. They stand facing each other for a second; Barbara with her arms crossed and Blinky with his hands clasped.

“…I have a thirty-minute break over lunch tomorrow.” Barbara states, her eyes locked with his. “There’s a café I like halfway between the school and the hospital. I’ll text you the address.”

Blinky finds himself floundering once again at the proposal, and simply nods rapidly as he wracks his brain for the proper response to this. What was it…what was it…ah yes!

“It’s…a date?” The words come out sounding more like a question, which Blinky supposes is appropriate.

His reaction earns him a soft smile from Barbara. “Yes, it’s a date. See you at noon?”

Blinky’s whole body seems to puff at the affirmation, his heart soaring almost as much as it had during the kiss. “Yes! Yes, you will. I’ll be there.”

Barbara does not make a move to kiss him again, which is only slightly disappointing. Instead, they exchange goodbyes and she disappears, smiling, back in to her house.

The walk back to Trollmarket seems oddly short, between the lightness of Blinky’s steps and the thoughts bouncing in his head. Sleep is strangely long-coming, despite his body’s fatigue. His dreams that night are filled soft words and softer lips.


End file.
